


Ready For Take-off

by surgicalfocus



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Humor, M/M, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, What Have I Done, awful awful awful, candy panties, so many dicks, stripper baek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 05:02:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8432821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surgicalfocus/pseuds/surgicalfocus
Summary: Ever the shy, retiring type of guy, Chanyeol reluctantly agrees to let his friends throw him a bachelor party before his wedding. When an enormous cake shows up in the middle of the festivities, he has a feeling shit's about to go down, but things turn out to be not quite as expected.





	

 

  


In all his life, Chanyeol had never seen so many dicks in one room.

  


To be fair, he should have expected as much -- especially from someone like Jongdae -- but it was ridiculous just how many there were. Dick balloons — hundreds of them, some rolling around on the floor, others hanging from the ceiling; dick streamers, dick lollipops and a dick cake. There were penis straws in every glass, including the one in Chanyeol’s hand, which was full of something mysteriously purple that smelled strong enough to strip the paint off the walls, and he wasn’t sure he was actually game enough to drink it. Even the ice cubes floating around in his glass were dicks, he noted glumly; he swirled the purple liquid around in a bid to make them melt faster.

  


“Hey, man... what are you doing over here all by yourself?” Chanyeol felt Jongdae put a hand on his shoulder, and turned his head to find his friend standing next to him, wearing that annoying little smirk of his. “Pondering the meaning of life, huh?”

  


Chanyeol shook his head. “Nah, nothing that deep," he said. "I noticed you, uh, really went to town with all the dick decorations... good job. Love your work.”

  


Jongdae laughed. “Ah, the ‘dick-orations’, yes... that’s what I’ve called them, by the way. Copyright Kim Jongdae, 2016.”

  


“Nice,” Chanyeol said, rolling his eyes; he hadn’t really wanted a bachelor party in the first place. Now he was stuck with an apartment full of penis-shaped things, which he’d calculated would probably take at least a couple of hours to remove. “I’m still trying to figure out how I got conned into all of this so easily," he said. "And also how long it’s going to take me to deflate and chuck out all of these dick balloons tomorrow.”

  


“For the billionth time, we couldn’t _not_ throw you a party, Yeol,” Jongdae said. “You only get hitched once. Hopefully.”

  


“It's a commitment ceremony, Jongdae; it’s not even technically a wedding. Not in the traditional sense.”

  


“Well, either way, you're making a conscious decision to only tap the same old ass until death do you part.” Jongdae put two extra penis straws in Chanyeol's glass, just for the hell of it, and smiled at him. “Such a lifelong sacrifice calls for one last night of shenanigans, I reckon, before you settle down and become even more boring than you already are. Anyway, don't you think Baek deserves a decent last hurrah too? This isn't only about you, you know.”

  


Chanyeol grunted his agreement. “Hmmph. I suppose.” He tilted the glass of purple stuff to his lips — refusing to acknowledge the three brightly-coloured penis straws bobbing around in there — and wrinkled his nose in disgust. “What did you guys put in this, anyway? I can already feel it dissolving my insides.”

  


“What _didn’t_ we put in it, you mean,” Sehun said; he was over at the table with Minseok and Yixing, liberally splashing vodka into a punch bowl filled with the same purple stuff in Chanyeol’s glass, while the other two took turns stirring the toxic-looking concoction with a plastic ladle. “Just trying to get you nice and hammered, Yeol… that way you’ll remember none of what we put you through when you wake up tomorrow morning. It’s the kind thing to do.”

  


“Has anyone heard from Baek, by the way?” Chanyeol asked, frowning. “It’s not like him to be late to a party. Especially not his _own_ party..”

  


“I’m sure he won’t be too much longer,” Minseok said. “He's just picking up some more booze on his way, that’s all.”

  


“But we’ve got plenty… I’m gonna call him and tell him not to worry about it.” Letting his friends get _too_ drunk would only be a mistake, anyway, although Chanyeol already knew how things would go. Any desperate attempts to remain even partly sober would only be futile; it was pretty much guaranteed that he would wake up the next day not knowing where the hell he was, with Sharpie cocks scrawled all over his face, his pants around his ankles, and one (or both) of his eyebrows missing. With clowns like Jongdae and Sehun for friends, it wouldn’t be the first time, either.

  


“Look, don't worry about it,” Jongdae said, wresting the phone from Chanyeol’s grasp before he could make the call. “He'll be here soon… just relax. Have some fun. Why don’t you go and stick the junk on the hunk?”

  


Chanyeol sighed, taking the sheet of penis stickers that Jongdae had handed to him; the little cartoon dicks all had faces, and they stared up at him lewdly. The ‘hunk’ that Jongdae had mentioned was just a badly-cropped photo of Baekhyun's head glued on to the stylised body of a naked man with exaggerated muscles, and as far as Chanyeol could tell, the objective of the game was to take a penis and stick it as close as possible to his groin region while blindfolded. It seemed simple enough.

  


“Joonie, blindfold him and spin him around,” Jongdae ordered; Joonmyun obediently tied the blindfold around Chanyeol’s head, then began to spin him around in circles in a bid to disorientate him. Chanyeol wondered what he thought about all this nonsense; Joonmyun was Jongdae’s older, well-mannered, somewhat conservative boyfriend — an odd match if you asked anyone but the two of them, since Jongdae was immature and a self-described raging pervert. They all called Joonmyun ‘Gramps’ because of his old-fashioned tendencies, although Jongdae secretly preferred calling him ‘Daddy’ — something Chanyeol had accidentally discovered a while ago and was still trying his hardest to forget. Joonmyun never touched alcohol and, unlike Jongdae, was never crude; Chanyeol had never even heard him utter a single swear word, and yet he’d dutifully helped to set up all the naughty games and dirty decorations for their night of debauchery without so much as a grimace or the batting of an eyelid. Chanyeol had to hand it to him; the guy had the patience of a saint.

  


“Alright, that's enough spinning him… don’t make him puke,” Jongdae said; he grabbed Chanyeol by the shoulders, steering him towards the picture of Baekhyun. “No puking before midnight, by the way — that's tonight’s special challenge. Whoever fails first has to buy us all breakfast tomorrow morning.”

  


Spurred on by shouts of encouragement from his friends, Chanyeol blindly reached out in front of him, staggering dizzily forward until his fingers landed on the glossy surface of the picture taped to the wall. He pressed the sticker against it and pulled the blindfold off his head. “Alright. How did I go?”

  


“You got it on his head, numbnuts,” Minseok smirked. “Good one.”

  


"Pretty accurate, though,” Sehun said, “since that's where his actual dick is.”

  


“You know he’d kick your arse for that remark, if he was here,” Chanyeol said to Sehun. “Or give it a long, hard squeeze, at least… we all know he loves doing that.” He smiled to himself when he saw Sehun visibly shuddering at the thought; Baekhyun had a thing for touching his friends' butts in general (except Chanyeol’s, which he claimed was non-existent) but he was especially fond of grabbing Sehun’s — probably thought it was good luck or something, for all Chanyeol knew. As much as he loved Baekhyun, some things about him were better left unexplained.

  


There was a loud knocking at the front door then, interrupting their little game. Jongdae quickly yanked Chanyeol's blindfold back down over his eyes.

  


"Hey,” Chanyeol said, “I just had my turn..”

  


“Well, why not have another one?” Jongdae sounded slightly panicked now, for some reason. “Plenty of dicks to go around!”

  


"Who's that at the door?" Chanyeol asked. “Is it Baek? Will someone go let him in?” He could feel Jongdae dragging him somewhere, but whenever he tried to pull the blindfold off, a hand would come and smack him away.

  


“All in good time, Yeol… all in good time.” Jongdae guided him over to a chair and pushed him roughly down onto it. “Just sit there for a moment. And don’t move.” 

  


“Can someone please tell me what’s happening?” Chanyeol whined; he loathed surprises, always had to know what was going on at all times. He tried to pull the blindfold off again, but someone whacked him over the head with a penis balloon as punishment, so he gave up. “We’ve got a special surprise for youuuuu,” he heard Sehun say, and the obvious excitement in his voice was a little worrying. Although Chanyeol couldn’t see anything, in the minutes that followed he could hear hushed whispers, a door opening and closing, and then what sounded a lot like something heavy rolling across the floorboards. At last he felt someone loosening his blindfold, just in time for him to see his friend Yifan arrive, pushing a huge three-tiered wedding cake on a wheeled platform into the room. 

  


Chanyeol just stared at it, unsure of what to say. “Um, what the sweet heck is that?”

  


“That, my friend,” Jongdae said proudly, gesturing towards the giant cake with a flourish, “is dessert.”

  


"Dessert..?" Chanyeol frowned. “I thought we had a penis cake.”

  


“ _That’s_ not a cake, Yeol,” Yifan said. “ _This_ is a cake — the gayest, fanciest, most fuck-off gigantic cake money could buy. You’re welcome.”

  


“Come on, guys… I know that’s not a real cake,” Chanyeol said wearily, “I wasn’t born yesterday.” The monstrosity in front of him was made of white satin stretched across some kind of frame, with glittery pink feather boas draped all over it. “It’s clearly a stripper cake. I thought we agreed on the whole ‘no strippers’ thing.” That was one of Chanyeol’s conditions for letting his friends throw him and Baekhyun a bachelor party — no strippers. Why would he want to watch some stranger flounce around with no clothes on, anyway? Baekhyun gave him more or less the same performance every night before he hopped in the shower, and he did it for free. 

  


“I know we promised there’d be no ‘adult entertainment’,” Jongdae said, and he clasped his hands together for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “But I think you’ll find this is a _little_ bit different.”

  


“You’ll like it,” Yixing added, nodding enthusiastically. “We promise.”

  


“Maybe it's a good thing Baek’s not here,” Chanyeol sighed. “I’m not sure how he’d feel about this..”

  


"Somehow, I don't think he'd mind," Sehun said. As soon as he said this, Chanyeol heard a muffled voice coming from inside the cake. “Um, guys, do you think I could come out now?” the voice said. “It’s getting kinda hard to breathe in here.”

  


“Yeah, yeah,” Jongdae said, “come on out, then.”

  


Chanyeol leapt up from his chair and pointed an accusatory finger at the speaking cake. “I knew it!” He narrowed his eyes, wondering why that voice had sounded so familiar. Before he had time to think about it too hard, the top of the cake popped off, and Baekhyun burst out of it in a spray of rainbow glitter with his arms outstretched, yelling “TA-DAH!”

  


Chanyeol blinked at him stupidly. “ _Baek_..?”

  


Baekhyun just stood there, still holding his arms out, sparkling with bits of confetti (even the bloody confetti was made of tiny multicoloured dicks, Chanyeol noticed). For some reason, he was dressed in a pilot’s uniform. “Captain B at your service," he said cheerily, giving Chanyeol a little salute.

  


"So you hired my fiancé to be a stripper at his own bachelor party,” Chanyeol said to Jongdae. “Great. That’s a sarcastic ‘great’, by the way.”

  


“Well he’s doing it for free, so _technically_ , we didn't hire him," Jongdae said. "Anyway, you said ‘no strippers’, but you didn’t say ‘no Baekhyun’ — he was the best budget-friendly alternative that we could come up with, and will probably be twice as entertaining. So what do you think?"

  


“It was actually my idea, Yeol,” Baekhyun said. “No need to crucify Jongdae.”

  


“True — he was super keen to do it,” Jongdae agreed. “Almost paid _us_ for the privilege, in fact.”

  


“Yifan volunteered for the job originally, but he couldn’t fit inside the cake," Sehun said.

  


Yifan scoffed at that. “That was _you_ , you little shit.”

  


“Okay,” Chanyeol said, “whatever… I’m over it.” He looked at Baekhyun again and said, “what are you meant to be, anyway?”

  


“I’m a sexy pilot inside a giant cake,” Baekhyun said, shrugging. “I thought that was obvious.”

  


“Our only options for costumes at the adult store were sexy pilot or sexy policewoman," Minseok explained to Chanyeol. “It turns out Baek actually looks pretty good in a skirt, but we thought this was probably the safer choice."

  


“Come on, babe… you’ll get to see me take my clothes off,” Baekhyun singsonged; he opened the front of his navy-blue pilot jacket and wiggled his hips suggestively. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t enjoy that.”

  


“I’ve seen you take your clothes off plenty of times,” Chanyeol said. “And, while perfectly enjoyable, it’s not something I'm keen to share with a room full of my pervert friends.”

  


“Hey, Baek’s as much of a pervert as any of us,” Jongdae said, looking a little offended. “Anyway, you know none of us will remember any of this tomorrow. Well, except maybe Joonmyun… but he doesn’t care, do you Joonie?”

  


“Not at all,” Joonmyun said amiably. “The unclothed male form does not offend me in the slightest.”

  


“Alright. Fine,” Chanyeol sighed. “Do what you want, Baek… I won’t stop you. Just as long as you keep in mind that Jongdae's probably gonna film every second of this, and then he'll slap it up on all of his social networking accounts as soon as he gets the chance.”

  


Jongdae, who stood to one side of Chanyeol getting his phone ready, said, “you bet your sweet ass I’ll be filming every second of it.”

  


“Look, I’m winging it big-time here, but I’ll try to keep it tame,” Baekhyun said to Chanyeol. “I won’t embarrass you too much -- scout’s honour.” He grabbed the lapels of his jacket with both hands. “So…” he said teasingly, “should I get started, then?”

  


“Well, okay,” Chanyeol said, partly covering his eyes with one hand. “Go ahead, I guess.”

  


“That’s the spirit.” Baekhyun made his way over to the sound system to put some music on. “I made a mix CD especially for this — the _perfect_ stripper soundtrack, if I may say so myself," he said. Soon enough, _Bootylicious_ by Destiny’s Child began to blare out of the speakers, and Chanyeol let out a quiet groan at the song choice.

  


“Crew, this is your captain speaking,” Baekhyun said, taking his position right in front of Chanyeol’s chair. “I hope you're all ready for take-off, because I’m about to, uh, take it all off.” He shrugged his jacket off his shoulders, swung it around above his head and tossed it over on the sofa; then he started unbuttoning his shirt, but was only two buttons down when the CD made an awful scratching sound and began to skip, over and over and over, _I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly-jelly—_

  


“Please God make it stop!” Chanyeol yelled, covering his ears; Joonmyun hurried over to turn the music off, once again filling the room with sweet, excruciatingly awkward silence.

  


“Now what?” Yixing piped up, after a couple of seconds had passed.

  


"Dammit… I must’ve got a scratch on it,” Baekhyun said sadly; he looked so deflated that Chanyeol felt bad for him, sort of. “There goes my perfect stripper soundtrack..”

  


"It's okay," Chanyeol said, "I won't hold it against you. I know what’ll make you feel better; why don’t we all go over there and beat the crap out of the dick piñata?”

  


“Hmm... nice try, but nope.” Now there was a spark of renewed determination in Baekhyun’s eyes — never a good thing, as far as Chanyeol was concerned. “Fine, I’ll do it without music then,” he said, and resumed unbuttoning his shirt, swinging his hips sexily to the sound of fresh applause and ear-splitting wolf-whistles from Chanyeol’s friends; when all the buttons were undone he pulled the shirt off, tossing it carelessly onto the floor, and the excited atmosphere promptly died. Several pairs of puzzled eyes met each other across the room.

  


“Baek? Why are you all orange..?” Chanyeol asked, daring to break the silence. He _was_ , too — completely orange, from the neck all the way down to the waistband of his pants, and probably underneath them as well. Baekhyun looked down at himself and frowned, as though only just noticing the problem. “Huh? Oh, _right_ ,” he said, laughing a little. “I knew I’d be getting my kit off, so I gave myself a spray tan this morning in honour of the occasion. DIY job, of course. As you can see, it went horribly wrong.”

  


“Ah,” Chanyeol said, trying very hard not to laugh himself. “Of course it did.” No one else said anything, but Chanyeol could hear them all trying to hold in their laughter too, most of them failing. Baekhyun threw Chanyeol a flirty glance, seemingly oblivious to all the snickering going on around him. "How do I look?" he asked. "Awful tan aside."

  


Chanyeol thought about it for a moment. "Like a big, sexy Dorito," he said. Baekhyun walked over and stood right in front of him, glaring down at him from beneath the brim of his pilot hat. 

  


"Are you flirting with me, sir?” he asked quietly.

  


“Um, maybe?” Chanyeol said. He wasn’t really sure, to be honest.

  


“I see. Well, two can play that game.” Baekhyun took his pilot hat off and put it on Chanyeol’s head; then he bent down until they were eye to eye, getting right up in his face, and someone in the room wolf-whistled loudly, setting off a chorus of _woo-hoos_. 

  


“Hey, good-looking,” Baekhyun whispered in Chanyeol's ear, “I might ask you to come visit me in the cockpit later, if that’s alright. Maybe you can become the newest member of the Mile High Club." 

  


“Oh dear,” Chanyeol said, giggling nervously, and immediately felt like his grandmother.

  


Baekhyun straightened himself up again, looking down at Chanyeol with a softer expression. "Go on -- cop a feel,” he said, smiling. “Special fiance privileges and all that.”

  


Chanyeol swallowed hard. “Um, sure.” He reached over and put both hands on Baekhyun’s bare stomach, tentatively at first. “Very nice,” he said, unsure of what else to say.

  


“You like that?” Baekhyun said in a low voice; he was breathing slightly harder now, Chanyeol could feel it. So was he, for that matter. 

  


Chanyeol nodded. “Uh-huh." He kept running his hands all over Baekhyun’s torso, tracing each rock-hard muscle with his fingertips. If there was one thing to be said for the horrible spray tan, it did somehow make those already spectacular abs look even _more_ spectacular, even if the colour was completely off. Chanyeol loved Baekhyun's usual peaches-and-cream complexion, but right now he was more on the carrot end of the spectrum; even so, he was sexy as hell, and memories of the many times Chanyeol had kissed every little bit of that same body began to fill his mind. He briefly wondered if any of his gawking friends could see him blushing at the thought, but he soon forgot about them completely. Baekhyun had always had that ability to command Chanyeol’s full attention in a crowded room, making him forget everyone else in it; it was why he’d fallen for him in the first place. He was the only one on earth Chanyeol had eyes for.

  


“You’re a total babe, you know… for an oompa loompa," Chanyeol said, laughing a little, and Baekhyun laughed too. "Fuck you," he whispered, but that didn't keep him from smiling anyway. 

  


Chanyeol’s friends were all whooping and cheering like a bunch of zoo animals now, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to tune them out. "I feel kinda weird, touching you in front of them like this,” Chanyeol said quietly. “But I have to admit… even though I was sceptical at first, seeing you strip for me _is_ pretty hot. I might be a convert after all.”

  


“Well, like Jongdae said, you probably won't remember any of this tomorrow... so enjoy it while you can,” Baekhyun replied. He smiled and tugged at the waistband of his pants. “I reckon it’s time for these to come off too.” There was that little smirk again, the sparkle of mischief in his eyes. “What do you think?”

  


“Okay,” Chanyeol said, taking a deep breath to prepare himself. "You have my blessing."

  


“Alright. They’re supposed to just rip right off, somehow,” Baekhyun said; after a long moment of struggling with the pants, he let out a nervous chuckle and said, “sorry, gents… looks like we're having some technical difficulties.” Finally there was a loud ripping sound as the velcro pulled apart at the sides and the pants fell right off him, revealing only a tight pair of skimpy black undies, sparkling with rows of tiny sequins. 

  


Chanyeol nearly choked on air. “Holy shit,” he said hoarsely.

  


"Nice panties, Baek,” Sehun called out. "Did you borrow them from your mum?”

  


“Oh, these aren’t even the main event, kid,” Baekhyun teased. “Should I take them off so you can see what I’m talking about?”

  


“Yes!" several voices replied in unison.

  


"No!" Chanyeol yelled; he still hadn’t recovered from the first 'surprise' yet.

  


"Meh… majority rules," Baekhyun said with a shrug, and then he pulled the black sequinned underpants down, kicking them off; they landed right in Chanyeol’s lap, but he was too preoccupied with Baekhyun’s final outfit change to immediately flick them away. 

  


“Baek, is that what I think it is..?” he asked, mortified.

  


“Yep — it’s a thong made entirely of candy.” Baekhyun turned around and wiggled his orange arse — now bare but for a string of rainbow-coloured candy beads disappearing into his butt-crack. “Pretty sweet, huh?” he said, backing it right up in Chanyeol’s face.

  


"It’s horrific,” Chanyeol said. “I think you should burn it.”

  


Baekhyun looked coyly at Chanyeol over his shoulder. “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way,” he said, “because I was going to ask if you wanted to eat it right off me.”

  


Chanyeol laughed at the idea. "No thanks, candy-ass. I know where that thing’s been.”

  


“I’ll eat it,” Minseok said in a loud whisper, and then pointed at Sehun when everyone turned to stare at him.

  


“Jongdae’s right,” Baekhyun said, pouting at Chanyeol. “You _are_ a party pooper.”

  


“What’s with the red fluff, Baek?” Sehun said, squinting at Baekhyun’s crotch -- now that he’d mentioned it, Chanyeol noticed a few tufts here and there of something red poking out from his sugary underwear. “You hiding Ronald McDonald in there?”

  


Baekhyun stood there with his arms crossed, staring Sehun down. “They’re called pubes, son. Still too young to grow your own, I gather.”

  


“I _know_ , you idiot,” Sehun said witheringly, “but why are they that _colour_?”

  


“You dyed your pubes red?” Jongdae was laughing so hard he was bent over, filming the floor instead of Baekhyun. “That’s fucked up. Even I wouldn't do that."

  


“Probably trimmed them into the shape of a heart as well, knowing him,” Minseok said, shaking his head. Even Yixing, who normally had a repertoire of about three different facial expressions, managed to look scandalised. 

  


“I did, actually,” Baekhyun said, grinning at Minseok. “Wanna see?”

  


There it was, Chanyeol thought — his cue to intervene, before things got even more out of hand. “No, Minseok doesn't want to see that,” he said, leaping up from his chair; he whirled around the room, hurriedly picking up all of Baekhyun’s discarded clothes. “In fact, I think we’ve all seen enough for one night… come on, Baek, let’s go put your clothes back on.”

  


“What? No way!” Baekhyun yanked the clothes from Chanyeol’s hands, throwing them in a pile on the floor, and then started pushing him back towards the chair. “I still haven’t given you your lap-dance yet — and let me tell you, this is gonna be the best damn lap-dance you’ve ever had.”

  


"Really, Baek,” Chanyeol pleaded, “that won’t be necessary.” But Baekhyun shoved him back down onto the chair again, putting a foot down between his legs to keep him from standing up. He wasn’t going anywhere, that much was obvious; if he wanted to get through this ordeal relatively unscathed, Chanyeol knew he would just have to play along.

  


"I didn't practise for two whole hours in the bathroom last night for nothing,” Baekhyun said through gritted teeth. Now he had a can of whipped cream in one hand — where it came from, Chanyeol had no idea — and was giving it a good shake.  

  


"You said you had diarrhoea," Chanyeol said. "I believed you and everything.”

  


“This is _my_ party too, and I'll do what I want,” Baekhyun said, ignoring him. “And what I _want_ to do is something nice, for _you_. So just shut your pretty mouth and enjoy it.” Chanyeol sat there in stunned silence for a while, watching apprehensively while Baekhyun sprayed whipped cream over his own chest, drawing wonky love-hearts over where his nipples would be, and then he squirted some of it down the front of his candy underwear. It began to ooze out from all the little gaps between the beads, and Chanyeol tried his hardest not to cringe.

  


“Yikes. That's a yeast infection waiting to happen,” Chanyeol heard Minseok whisper to Sehun.

  


“You wanna meet me in the bathroom after the show?” Baekhyun purred in Chanyeol’s ear. He launched himself into Chanyeol’s lap. "I'm gonna need some help getting all this cream out of my underpants..."

  


“You know, I really don't think this chair was made for two people,” Chanyeol said nervously, but Baekhyun’s response was to stick his finger in the whipped cream on his chest, smearing it over Chanyeol's lips, and then he pushed the creamy finger into his mouth. “Suck," he murmured softly, and Chanyeol obeyed, since he had no other choice, really. Baekhyun pulled the finger out, threw his arms around Chanyeol's neck and kissed him; he shoved his tongue between Chanyeol’s lips, licking all the cream out of his mouth. This earned a chorus of rowdy cheers from around the room — and a few obnoxious pretending-to-puke noises from someone else, probably Sehun.

  


“Wow…” Chanyeol whispered breathlessly, when Baekhyun finally broke the kiss. 

  


Baekhyun smiled down at him, looking pleased with himself. "You liked that, huh?”

  


Chanyeol no longer had the capacity to think, let alone speak. "I, um... yeah, actually..”

  


“I _kinda_ feel like I’m filming a porno right now,” Jongdae said, although he didn’t seem all that bothered by it.  


“Go on,” Baekhyun said, getting up from Chanyeol’s lap and turning to face the other way. He started rolling his hips, wiggling his bum in Chanyeol’s face. “Slap the booty, baby. Live a little.” 

  


"Um, okay." Chanyeol gave him a gentle slap, mostly to shut him up.

  


“What the hell was _that_?” Baekhyun laughed. “I barely even felt it, you sissy. Do it harder.”  This time Chanyeol slapped him so hard that Baekhyun yelped in surprise, falling backwards into Chanyeol’s lap. At that point the chair seemed to decide it had had enough for one night, and there was a loud cracking sound as it collapsed into pieces on the living room floor, taking them both with it. For a moment Chanyeol just lay there in the pile of splintered wood, covered in whipped cream and too shocked to speak, with several surprised faces peering down at him. Then he realised Baekhyun was lying beneath him, and he quickly rolled away.

  


“Holy shit, that was intense… are you guys okay?” Jongdae asked from behind his phone camera, until a stern-looking Joonmyun took it away from him and switched it off.

  


“I think so...” Chanyeol groaned and turned his head to the side. “Baek, are you alright..?”

  


Baekhyun said nothing. At first glance, he appeared to be fast asleep. Chanyeol put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently, but there was no response.

  


“I’d hate to shit all over the fun, guys, but I think he's knocked himself out,” Chanyeol said worriedly. “We should probably get him to the hospital.”

  


“I’ll give you a lift there, if you like,” Joonmyun offered. “I’m probably the only one who’s in any condition to drive, anyhow.”

“Thanks, Gramps. That’s very kind of you.”

  


  


After putting some clothes on him, Minseok and Yifan helped Chanyeol carry the unconscious Baekhyun down to Joonmyun’s car so he could drive them both to the hospital. Baekhyun woke up in the emergency room a little while later, complaining of a terrible headache, and Chanyeol waited there with him, holding his hand and trying to comfort him until a doctor came to see him. It was only a mild concussion, the doctor said, nothing too serious, but they would keep him under observation a while longer, just to be on the safe side. Joonmyun, that kindly old soul, said he’d wait for them out in the car until they were done.

  


“Sorry about what happened earlier,” Baekhyun said to Chanyeol, when he was feeling a bit better. “I really wanted you to enjoy it, you know. I didn’t mean to fuck everything up so spectacularly.”

  


"Why are you sorry? I was actually quite impressed, up until the part where you broke the chair and knocked yourself out,” Chanyeol said; he began to laugh at the memory — he _could_ laugh about it now, anyway, a couple of hours after the fact. "You should be proud, I think... you really out-raunched yourself. Now let’s never speak of it again.”

  


Baekhyun offered Chanyeol an embarrassed little smile. He looked really cute, now that he was in normal clothes: just some comfy sweatpants and one of Chanyeol's giant hoodies — no sexy pilot uniform or kinky undies in sight, which Chanyeol was very happy about. This was his favourite kind of Baekhyun, by far.

  


 “Well, I guess at least it was memorable,” Baekhyun said, still smiling. "Thanks for putting these clothes on me, by the way.”

  


“Of course... I couldn't let you go to the hospital wearing your weird little candy pants,” Chanyeol said. “In case you’re wondering what became of them, I took them in the car and chucked them out the window on the way here — might've killed some poor bastard on a bike for all I know, but it had to be done. Here’s hoping they'll be run over by a truck."

  


Baekhyun laughed. "It's fine,” he said, “I won't miss them. They were actually really uncomfortable.”

  


Chanyeol leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "You're one hell of a hot mess, you know, but I love you. How are you feeling now?”

  


Baekhyun wriggled around a little on the hospital bed, making himself more comfortable. “A bit better... I reckon I’m done spewing for the time being.”

  


“Hmm. Before midnight, too,” Chanyeol noted with a little tut-tut of disapproval. “Guess who’s buying everyone breakfast tomorrow..?”

  


“Whatever,” Baekhyun said, rolling his eyes. “I’m concussed, not drunk. It's different.”

  


Chanyeol put an arm around his shoulders, kissing the side of his head and holding him close. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you puked,” he whispered. “It’ll be our little secret.”

  


Baekhyun looked up at him and smiled. “You’re cool, you know that? I’m glad you’re my sexy co-pilot.”

  


A nurse bustled into the room then, interrupting their sweet little moment, and she spent the next few minutes fussing over Baekhyun, checking his blood pressure and asking if he felt okay.

  


“Any more vomiting or nausea?” she asked. “Dizziness? Ringing in the ears..?”

  


“Nope,” Baekhyun said, shaking his head. “I’ve got a pounding headache, though.”

  


“Well, I’m not surprised, you poor dear,” the nurse said kindly. “Dr. Sexy will be in to see you shortly, though, and he’ll make you feel a lot better.” She left the room as soon as she was done, and Baekhyun looked over at Chanyeol with a bewildered expression. 

  


“Did she just say what I think she said,” he asked, “or am I seriously injured and hallucinating..?”

  


“I’m not sure what you mean,” Chanyeol replied, biting his bottom lip to keep from smiling. The door opened again, and this time a man wearing a white coat strolled into the room. “Evening, gentlemen,” he said brightly, closing the door behind him. “How are we feeling today?”

  


Baekhyun stared at the man, his mouth falling open a little. “Joonmyun..?”

  


Joonmyun smiled. “That's ‘Dr. Sexy’ to you,” he said.

  


“What are you doing here?” Baekhyun asked. “And why are you dressed like that?”

  


“Well, Baek, it turns out Joonmyun here has been doing a bit of casual strip-o-gram work in his spare time,” Chanyeol explained. “In fact, he's been doing it for a few years now; he told me all about it during the drive to the hospital, while you were still out cold in the back seat. Who knew?”

  


“No kidding,” Baekhyun said, in a quiet voice. He looked a little dazed, like he’d just woken up all over again.

  


“It's good money on the side," Joonmyun said; he took off his white doctor coat, hanging it over a hook on the back of the door. “Have to watch out for those bachelorettes, though… they can be quite, well, 'voracious' is a good word for it. Now, I heard you had a bit of a headache, Baekhyun. You know what's good for that?”

  


Baekhyun opened his mouth to speak, and then hesitated for a moment. Some of the colour had drained from his face, Chanyeol noticed. “Um. It’s not a lap-dance, is it..?”

  


Joonmyun’s smile was so dazzling that it made the fluorescent hospital lighting look suddenly dim. “Well _done_ , Baekhyun — you've clearly been doing your homework. Now, then -- let’s get the _real_ party started, shall we?” Still grinning, he started unbuttoning the white shirt he wore beneath the doctor's coat; he had a great body too, even though Chanyeol, as biased as he was, thought it wasn’t quite as perfect as Baekhyun’s. But he wasn’t orange, at least; that was the main thing.

  


“Just a friendly warning,” Chanyeol said, turning his head to whisper in Baekhyun’s ear. “I’ve paid Gramps for the full monty, so you're gonna see everything. And I mean _ev-ery-_ thing. With a capital D.”

  


“Mmm. Can’t wait,” Baekhyun said flatly.

  


“I’m sure you'll find he's worth every cent,” Chanyeol said, patting him on the back of the hand. “So. Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, smiling.

  


“My thoughts about what?”

  


Chanyeol shrugged. “Us being together forever. Seeing Dr. Sexy strip down to nothing but his stethoscope. Both.”

  


Baekhyun thought about it for a moment, and then he grinned back at Chanyeol. “Well, right now, aside from the pain in my head, I'm actually feeling pretty damn happy,” he said. “And, if I’m honest, also a little bit disturbed.”

  


Chanyeol laughed at that; he took Baekhyun’s hand in his own, squeezing it gently, his fingertips grazing the gold engagement band on the other man’s ring finger. “Me too, buddy,” he said. “Me too.”

  


  


  


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